


Blankets

by WhyMrSpook



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Blankets, Blow Jobs, Enterprise, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Hurt Spock, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Up, Poor Spock, Protective Kirk, Space Husbands, Spock is cute, gays in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 09:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10214480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyMrSpook/pseuds/WhyMrSpook
Summary: After a close call with a menacing intelligent life form, Jim returns to his quarters to find Spock has left medbay and is wrapped up in blankets on their bed. Jim's torn between sheer panic at losing Spock and how adorable he looks now.





	

It had been one of those days that had aged Jim far more than he was happy to admit. No power, freezing temperatures and rapidly depleting air supplies. They’d nearly all frozen to death before they’d been deemed worthy to survive by their hostile captors – thanks to Spock’s impeccable calculations of energy expenses over a ship like the Enterprise. The cost of that had been Spock’s health. No-one had suffered more so than Spock, and Jim had almost broken when his First Officer started to shut down. He hadn’t said a word that he’d been close to his breaking point. Jim had been concerned, of course. He knew Spock wasn’t built for those conditions, none of them were really, but he’d had no idea of Spock’s tolerance levels. Even after the crisis had been averted and all systems returned online, his utter panic lingered at not having known. He’d joined Spock and the few other vulnerable crew mates in medbay. For almost an hour he watched Spock in his healing trance, beneath layers of thermal blankets, and thought how cold he still looked. Even as the ship heated up and continued on its path, Spock lay still and pale. Eventually, too hyped up to sleep and too emotional to stay with Spock, he’d gone to the gym to beat his emotions out on a punch bag.

An hour’s worth of exercise later, he returned to his quarters, hoping he might just be exhausted enough to drop off without too much anxiety. Upon entering his quarters, he fell still and gasped in shortly. Spock was out of sickbay; sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, cocooned in the duvet so only his face and hands were visible. He looked up through big brown eyes, stopped tapping at his PADD, and looked at Jim innocently. _Innocent_. Who’d have thought the main expression of his Vulcan was innocence. At first he was certain it was pure, poorly masked contempt. Throughout their developing friendship he’d learned how to pick out genuine irritation, adoration, worry, and then love. But predominantly, innocence seemed to hold Spock’s features. It wasn’t so much childlike as it was… well, alien. Spock was a born and bred Vulcan, on a mostly human crew in a relationship with a very human man. He approached most things with a tempered but keen curiosity that had a distinctly adorable quality. An adorable quality that had been lost entirely earlier that day.

Panic struck Jim suddenly, as though Spock was falling unconscious all over again. It was a great, overwhelming fear of losing Spock forever. He couldn’t have been dismissed from sickbay already, if not because he was too vulnerable, then because Jim wasn’t ready to face him. Bones had to protect him where Jim couldn’t- where Jim failed. He wanted to say all of this to Spock, to explain how deeply scared he was of losing him. But he already knew Spock’s reaction. They’d had this conversation, and variations on it, a dozen times.

He took a deep breath and then his pounding heart began to ease slightly. He stared at Spock through tired eyes. He still looked cold, but precious and innocent and alive. In the dark room, only the light of his PADD cast light onto Spock’s pretty face. The pale green highlights of his cheekbones, and the darkness beneath his eyes. He was tired too, it seemed, and that wasn’t something he could say often about his lover.

“Do you need anything, Spock?” He asked, softly, because nothing else seemed appropriate. “Tea? Another blanket?”

“No, ashayam. Only you. Doctor McCoy termed the phrase ‘home comforts’.” Spock spoke softly, with only the ghost of amusement fluttering on his words. Jim’s smile was equally as weak. Today had not been pleasant; hadn’t been remotely interesting, even. Two crewmen dead, on top of everything else. Spock might have been a third.

“Doctor’s orders, then.” Jim nodded, stripping off. The combination of his workout and the returning heating had rendered him warm enough now, anyway. He climbed onto the bed behind Spock and wrapped himself around him, hugging him tightly. “I hate seeing you like that, Spock. Every time it happens I swear it’ll be the last, and then I still can’t protect you.”

“You cannot protect me from my own physiology, Jim. You also know that I find myself in situations like this far less often than yourself. I am built to withstand far more, too. Today was a necessity. If you had confined me to medbay, I would have been unable to carry out my essential work.”

“I know.” He whispered, tugging at Spock until he lay beside him, stealing some of the blanket back. Not that he needed much of it anyway. Spock was like a hot water bottle. “Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to worry about you, Spock. I do, always. That’s just a fact of life now.”

Spock muttered something into his chest about illogical humans, but Jim didn’t quite catch it. He heard the PADD falling onto the mattress and reached around to move it, putting it on the bedside table. Whether Spock was asleep or just too tired to hold on any longer, he didn’t know. Either way, he tightened his grip momentarily and pressed a kiss against his head. He was tired too, exhausted even, but he didn’t want to sleep just yet. The bed and blankets were warm, but nothing was as comforting as the heat of the Vulcan body pressed up against him. He just wanted to feel that for a little while, along with the steady, reassuring heartbeat beneath his hand on Spock’s waist.

* * *

He woke suddenly, eyes snapping open to ensure that the warmth against him was in fact Spock, and his lover was alive and well. Spock was awake, working on his PADD diligently, though he did spare Jim a gentle kiss to his shoulder when he saw him awake, before continuing reading his reports. Jim grinned, the action coming to him far easier than he might have anticipated. It was hard to hold on to his worry after such a good night’s sleep. His quarters were adjusted to Vulcan temperatures and everything was relatively neat; two wonderful signs that Spock was there with him. It was like any other blissful morning and promised to be as domestic and heart-warming as the very lifestyle Jim thought he was avoiding out in space. It didn’t seem so gross and cliché when it was with Spock.

After a few lazy minutes, he slipped out of the warmth of their bed to relieve himself and returned to find Spock had finished with his reports. His PADD lay back on the bedside table, and Spock himself had retreated under the blankets once again. Damn him for being so cute. Jim climbed back into bed, hands reaching out to pull himself as tightly to his Vulcan as possible.

“You feeling alright, Spock? You’ve not gone cold again, have you?” He didn’t think it was possible, but half of his mind was already beginning to formulate a plan of action- just in case. Call Bones, then panic internally whilst waiting. He needed that making into a t-shirt.

“Certainly not, Jim, as I’m sure you can tell.” Spock replied. He wasn’t wrong; he was back up to his furnace like self. Only it was Jim’s duty to worry. “That does not mean I am opposed to your current efforts.” Spock added swiftly, and Jim grinned. Of course, if Spock wasn’t opposed to Jim’s current efforts, that meant he was more than happy to receive them.

“Is that so, Mister Spock?” He teased, pressing kisses to the shadowed green skin of Spock’s neck, chasing towards a flush that was probably more to do with Jim’s thoughts than the heat of the room. “And what if my efforts were entirely more self-serving than to just warm you up?”

“Then I would encourage you to be selfish wholeheartedly, Captain.”

He allowed himself to grin against Spock’s skin for only a moment before lust won out and he decided to utilise his tongue on that hot skin. The worry of yesterday was but a distant memory as he stripped Spock from his Starfleet issue pyjama top, revealing more skin slowly- teasing himself as much as Spock. The expanse of Spock’s stomach and abs, to his hollowed collarbones and strong arms. He had kissed every inch of Spock’s skin on more than one occasion, but it was never enough. He was never satisfied. He’d not had Spock long enough to full know his body yet, each night together revealing something new and surprising. He found now that the pulse point in Spock’s neck was his favourite thing of the day. He sucked at it slowly, leisurely, hands roaming between them at ease until he was quite satisfied he’d left a mark.

“You don’t often have a desire to mark me.” Spock commented neutrally, neither discomfort nor lust infiltrating his tone yet. Jim was quietly confident that would not be the case for that much longer; their relationship may have been relatively new, but he’d figured his partner out this much at least.

“I do today.” Jim shrugged, resting his lips against Spock’s sternum for just a moment; revelling in the sensation of Spock’s hands on his back, edging towards Jim’s boxers slowly. The brief lapse in his control was over as quickly as it began and he shuffled down from Spock’s reach. He disposed of his lover’s pyjama bottoms entirely, then curling up between his bare legs. From this vantage point, Spock looked godly. Jim… Jim was human. Flawed. His stomach wasn’t always as toned as it was supposed to be, and he had a fair few scars. But Spock was Adonis. Spock was ethereal.

Jim’s hands splayed out on Spock’s strong thighs, holding him in place as he lowered his mouth to the swollen appendage. Jim had his fair share of sex in his youth, and more a few meaningful relationships with men between them. Yet he’d never been so obsessed with someone’s body as he was with Spock’s. Most people were beautiful; Spock was exquisite. In every sense. From his pale green skin, to the darker olive flush, to his pretty brown eyes and the taste of him; his tongue, his cock. Jim grinned wickedly before he took Spock in swiftly, forgoing any preamble. He watched Spock’s reaction as his tongue worked his lover. Looking up like that was almost awkward and he probably looked possessed, but Spock wasn’t watching him anyway. His head was thrown back into the pillow, his body arching in response to Jim’s ministrations.

“Jim…”

He hollowed his cheeks further, gentle and pressured in alternation, taking Spock to the absolute edge. Only then did he contemplate whether he wanted to make Spock wait for it. The day was still young, after all. He could drag this out for hours until they were even in danger of being late for their shift- if Spock was even allowed on duty after yesterday’s incident. The very thought of the day before made Jim’s stomach wring, and he returned his attentions to Spock instead. He concentrated on the way Spock’s chest rose and fell, one of the more obvious signs of his current arousal. Jim sucked; his hands long since abandoning his thighs to aid his efforts, teasing and stroking where he didn’t quite want to reach just yet. He watched the way Spock’s hands retracted from being tanged in the sheets and found their way into Jim’s hair.

“Jim, I’m-“

Jim moaned in response, acknowledging what was to come, welcoming it even. He took as much as he could of Spock’s sizeable length, and swallowed everything Spock gave him. Screw delayed gratification. Just this once, after yesterday, he had wanted to taste Spock, to feel him, hot and alive.

Afterwards, panting, Jim wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and crawled back up to Spock, grinning. “Good morning, by the way.” He remarked softly, pressing a kiss to Spock’s soft lips, pliable in his post-orgasm haze.

“Good morning, Jim.” Spock replied, hands returning to Jim’s waistband without delay, tugging at his boxers. He had long since given up at acting disapproving at Jim’s reluctance to wear the Starfleet issue underwear.

“Have I told you that I love you, today?”

“No, Jim.” Spock looked distinctly amused, though Jim wasn’t sure if it was at his comment or the look of pure bliss on his face at the hand exploring his aching cock curiously. “You have not.” He pulled Jim up against his chest, before promptly returning his hand to Jim.

“Then I apologise profusely, baby. I love you so much.” His statement was silenced abruptly because fuck- if Spock wasn’t a quick learner. He’d watched Jim get himself off once. Just once! And he’d picked this much up. It was almost unfair. But boy, he wasn’t about to complain.

“I am gratified to hear that, Jim. Though, as I’ve said before, I fail to understand how calling me a name most commonly associated with human infants is in any way-”

“Spock!” Jim hissed through his teeth, pushing himself into his lover’s groin desperately. He almost wished he’d restrained himself earlier, but they had the rest of their lives for that, and right now he just needed release. And for Spock to stop talking about babies. “Shit- Spock!”

Release came like an avalanche. Seemingly nothing, at first, and then a cascading, crushing descent, picking up momentum more rapidly than he could process. He wasn’t sure how many times he said Spock’s name, but he imagined Spock could tell him if his curiosity persisted for too much longer.

“I love you too, ashayam. I am deeply sorry for yesterday. I placed my scientific curiosity and the preservation of the ship above my own health. I was foolish to not admit defeat sooner.” There was one point, at the start of their acquaintance, Jim would have laughed if he'd been told Spock was capable of an apology. Of admitting a mistake. Hell, even of making a mistake. But there it was, only for him, gentle and honest and each word conveyed a world of love with it.

“Stubborn man.” Jim laughed, breathless still, and half turned his head to allow Spock to kiss him. “It’s okay, Spock. You scared the crap out of me, but we needed you. Just… talk to me next time. I can’t use you as an officer _or_ protect you if I don’t know your limits.”

“Indeed, Jim. I will endeavour to be more open with you.”

“Good.” Jim shifted again, kicking away the ruined sheets from their knees and sprawling out against Spock, languidly. “I can’t decide if I want to go back to sleep or eat my way through half the computer menu.”

“As the bedding requires changing and you require sustenance, I believe we both know the answer to that.”

Jim groaned, but there was no real displeasure behind it. His whole body felt particularly calm and warm. Though he didn’t relish the idea of leaving Spock’s arms, nor did he want to wake up in a few hours to gross sheets and a Vulcan boyfriend berating him about his unhealthy eating habits.

“Alright. Time to get up then.” He sighed, theatrically and with one final kiss, he slid out of bed.


End file.
